

1 



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Copyright N°. 



^Q 5 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



SONGS IN A SUN-GARDEN 



^ongs (n a ^un^(ilarlien 



Coletta 3^pan 



J^erbert 13. Curner 61 Co. 

1905 



COPYRIGHT, 1905 
BY HERBERT B, TURNER & CO. 



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

DEC 15 1905 

Copyrifftt Entry 
CLASS CL XXc. No. 

/ 5 5 S SS' 

COPY B. 



j5 35-3-5^ 



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PUBLISHED DECEMBER, 1905 



Tie Heintzemann Press, Boston, Mass. 



^eUtcatctJ to 



CONTENTS 

At Chenojiceaux ....... 3 

The Mirth-Maiden . . . . . . .11 

The Sun-So fig 14 

The Hope Tree 16 

Morning . . . . . . . .18 

A Bird Sifiging i?i the Garden . . . . • ^9 

Inspiration . . . . . . . .21 

God is Near ........ 23 

The Lady of Good Hope 25 

O for a Thousand Hands . . . . .26 

The Neighborhood of God . . . . .28 

The First Spring 30 

Ha! ha! ha! 36 

Oh, Let me Sing 38 

RicJies ......... 39 

My Candle ........ 40 

Sytnpat!iy . . . . . . . .41 

Sphming Song ....... 44 

You 47 

T/ie Cry of the Future 50 

PliilosopJiy . . . . . . . '52 

Romeo ......... 53 

Aspiration . . . . . . . '54 

Hope 55 

T/ie Power of Love ....... 59 

Alone in t/ie Rain ....... 60 

Divine Injustice . . . . . . .61 

Song ......... 62 

A Lover's Song . . . . . . -63 

Christmas ........ 64 

The lung of Everywhere 65 

Home ......... 68 

Love's Angel . . . . . . . • 7^ 

Sing me a Song . . . . . . -72 

[vii] 



Thoughts 


, , 










n 


Josefita .... 










75 


Eastern Song . 










78 


Sumtner and Silence . 










79 


My Bn?idle Bull-Terrier . 










81 


At Easter-Tide 










82 


At the Lighthouse . 










83 


Three Pictures 










85 


If thou hast won 










86 


The Woman and the Artist 










87 


The Whiter' s Guest 










88 


The Silent Singer . 










89 


Riverside 












90 


A Fantasy 












91 


Song 












92 


What I love . 












93 


The wooing o'' it 












94 


My Canine Friend 












95 


Trovato . 












96 


Entrez . 












97 


Goethe and Gounod 










98 


Love and the Southe 


m Breeze 










99 



[ viii ] 



SONGS IN A SUN-GARDEN 



AT CHENONCEAUX 

CELINE 

AT last ! the fire-place at Chenonceaux . . . 
So silent now, and once so eloquent ! 
Alas ! where are the voices ? where the jests ? 
The bright and sparkling laughter — where indeed ? 

JEAN 

Ah, here it was that men of letters came — 

CELINE 

And still are coming, Jean ! . . . Last night I heard 
Your name among great lights ! Ay, surely, praise , . 
The critic, too, withheld his cruel blade 
Which once flashed over you with clever scorn 
And, since the world insists, with sullen air 
He grants you some small talent . . . Never mind . . . 
Last, but not least, you know, you must suspect 
I read your worth and merit . . . 

JEAN 

It is sweet, 
Celine, to feel that you believe in me. 
The world is but a heartless analyst 
Who, with a measured lore and grudging hand, 
Would blight my noblest efforts . . . Ah, indeed ? 
The critic ? Well, it matters not the word 
It pleases him to utter. If the wines 
At dinner make a merry man of him. 
He writes with tender generosity ! 
But if he owe his landlord, or, still worse, 
If cigarettes are few and of a brand 
Not suited to his fancy, he prepares 

[3] 



A bitter essay on my weakest points — 
A dwarf is Justice in these days, C61ine ! 

CELINE 

A dwarf ! Ah no ... a dwarf can never grow 

Beyond his littleness. Say, rather, that 

A child is Justice who will one day turn 

A giant for your dear art's sake. {Aside) Poor love ! 

JEAN 

A child is justice then ! . . . Celine, this glass 
Reflected once, in old, romantic days, 
The face of Mary Queen of Scots ! 

CELINE 

And here 
It was, I think, that Voltaire and Rousseau 
And many men of learning, fresh for wit 
And picturesque attraction, came to see 
Madame Dupin. 

JEAN 

She owned fair Chenonceaux — 
A charming woman whose keen intellect 
Drew famous minds about her. 

CELINE 

How I sigh, 
Hearing you speak of brilliant womanhood . . . 
I am so commonplace ! . . . and when you speak 
Of wit and charm I realize that I 
Cap never please you . . . To the master-mind 
The jewel of a true companionship 

[4] 



(Nay, do not interrupt me ! ) is the thing 
Which stimulates his greatness . . . 

JEAN 

Foolish one! 
Your words are sane enough ; but, lady mine, 
You are my dear companion — are you not ? 

CELINE {gloomily) 

You dwell on summits far removed from me — 
Strive as I may, I cannot reach your heights. 

JEAN (solemnly) 

We two have wandered over many miles : 
For both the mountains are, as yet, afar. 
I have not pressed the cloud-dust with my feet. 
Nor shall I till this raven hair is white 
With reminiscences of many years ! 
Fame, with its silver voice and shining eyes, 
Lies buried in your palm, my loved Celine. — 
It is a flower which blossoms when the heart 
Is ripe with sympathy, or deeply grieved : 
Either extreme may lift the daring soul 
To peaks of high ambition , . . Tis with you, 
For you, because of you, my star shall rise ! 

CELINE 

I know your feeling. [Aside) Unaccountable 
That he should still admire me ! 
{To Jean) Yet I have half suspected that you love, 
Upon some lofty pedestal of dreams — 

[5] 



JEAN 

Another woman ? Yes, 'tis true, Celine ; 
But you would not be jealous of her — you ? 

CELINE 

Tell me of her who tries to come between 
Me and my friendship ! 

JEAN 

Listen then, Celine : 
I loved a woman once, when I was rich 
With endless treasures given me by youth — 
Before the profile of the changeful world 
(A heavy outline, morbid and grotesque, 
Of rough, misguided human pencil-strokes) 
Enslaved me with its fatal ugliness 
And kept me near the heart of sordid things. 

CELINE 

How you persist in shunning the bright side 
So kindly sheltering the universe ! 
My dear, dark shadow, poets should not be 
So fiercely gloomy ! 

JEAN {sorroivfully) 
Gloom a habit is 
Because poor Eve had one too many ears ! 
Dear Sunlight, under your uplifting views 
I shall grow optimistic as the day ! 

CELINE {tapping her foot) 
I thank you for your words ; but now I wait 
Impatiently for knowledge of . . . this . . . love ! 

[6] 



JEAN 

I loved a woman once, and grew a pow'r, 

A telling voice among the hearts of men ! 

I was the strong wind blowing in the face 

Of my republic ... It was not foretold 

By dream, or sign, or deep prophetic voice 

That we should meet in rare America . . . 

It seemed to me no other land was fair 

As fair America, wherein I sang — 

No nation gifted with such length and breadth 

As great, aspiring America ! 

Surrounded by the arts and sciences 

And countless visions of becoming toil 

Young womanhood stood forth and, unafraid. 

Defied the Old World customs. A perfect flow'r 

Possessed of peerless beauty, talent, poise. 

Force, concentration, feeling, intellect. 

With wit which played among her deepest themes 

(Lest they be lost to half the multitude). 

And tact to hide her fine solidity 

(When heaviness would weigh too heavily) : 

Thus grew the woman of America ! 

With all the glory of her heart and mind 

She bloomed beneath the justice of her land 

Surrounded by true standards ! Ay, she bloomed 

Until her radiance sent forth the gift 

Of precious comradeship and pow'r to hold 

Beyond the hour given her by charm — 

Beyond the crumbling wall of coquetry — 

Beyond the burning of youth's candle — ay, 

Beyond the boundary of life itself — 

I fell a victim . . . can you guess the rest ? 

[7] 



CELINE 

She must indeed be irresistible 

Who is, at once, both strong and charming. I 

Who, spell-bound, listen, have discovered, Jean, 

She is a type you love, and not one heart — 

And, knowing this, my spirits rise, for I 

May learn the secrets of America 

And, too, approach the being of your dreams — 

{sighing) As near as my poor self can ever come ! 

JEAN 

My dear Celine, when womanhood I praised 

Your name was not excluded . , . French you are, 

And oh ! what Frenchman would not die for you 

Who have the gifts which mark America 

With all the graces given you by France ! 

'Twas safe for me to name a certain type. 

So near you are to all I picture you — 

So near that type itself ... I bow to you 

Before all other queens, I place your charms 

And true, substantial qualities so high — 

{IiTelevantly) Celine, we need great women ... Do you 

hear the wind 
That blows against the wall of Chenonceaux } 
Hearken ! . . . what whispers it ? . . . This way, Celine . . . 

CELINE {shivering) 
It sounds prophetic . . . Do you think the clouds 
Are planning for another storm, dear Jean ? 
How black it looks ! . . . And oh ! what is that noise ? 

JEAN 

It must be thunder ! 

[8] 



CELINE 

See, the lightning plays 
About the corners of the ancient room. 

JEAN {tenderly) 
My dear one, are you frightened ? 

CELINE 

Frightened, Jean, 
When you are here beside me ? Oh, how still 
The atmosphere ! How strange . . . how very . . , still I 
I fancy, dear, if I should close my eyes 
I'd hear the solemn and familiar tread 
Of sleepless ghosts that once were roaming — Oh! 
See how that shadow flutters back and forth ! . . . 
It cannot be a figure over there — 
Not there, beside the window . . . Ah, my dear, 
How I persist in seeking spirit-forms ! 
Give me your hand, my Jean, that I may cease 
My foolish wanderings . . . 

JEAN 

How still it is ! 
C61ine, I fancy, if I lingered here. 
That every room would turn to Paradise, 
And each old curio would learn to smile 
In silent understanding . . . Thanks, dear one, 
For this too happy afternoon ... I go 
Back to my hermit's life — and you, perhaps, 
To wed some worthier, better man than I. 

CELINE 

Once I was young and thoughtless. I refused 

[9] 



The best of noblemen : a Poet ! He 

Had left me not three twilights when I found 

How much I loved and cherished him ! Too proud 

To contradict myself I let him stay 

Within his cheerless hermitage to grow 

A famous man of letters . . . Now he comes, 

After the long, black years of bitterness. 

To tempt me to confide in him . . . Dear heart, 

I love you ! 

JEAN 

So, my own, you are the same 
And still care something for me ? 

CELINE 

As I live 
I never loved you more . . . Behold the sky. 
The brilliant color glowing in the west ! 
The world of light that celebrates our joy . . . 

JEAN 

Shine on, O West, forever and a day ! 
My love and I have never loved before — 
This is the first fair meeting of our souls 
And we are strangely happy ! 

CELINE 

Are you sure, 
O Poet, that you love me , . . love me still ? 
What of that woman . . . in . , . America ? 



[lo] 



THE MIRTH-MAIDEN 



YOU'RE a bright little maid, you're a brave little 
maid! 
You laugh in the sunshine, you laugh in the shade ; 
You never can frown and you ne'er can be staid ! 

What have you done to me ; what have you done ? 
Why should you run to me ; why should you run ? 
Life has not spun for me frolic and fun. 

What do you want with my sorrows and tears ? 
What do you know of my heart and its fears ? 
What can you do with my burden of years ? 

Go to the youth with the sun in his eyes ! 
What would you do with the sad and the wise ? 
Go, with your laughter that sparkles and flies ! 

Stay ! I regret it ; regret and regret ! 
Maiden, forget it ; O maiden, forget ! 
Dearest one, dearest, abide with me yet ! 

Stay with your laughter that pulls at the sun 
Downward and downward until it has won. 
Ray after ray, from the dim to the bright. 
Teeming with gladness and mirth and delight, 
Paid them, and laid them, in merriment sweet, 
Under the willow, to reign at your feet ! 
Laugh, lovely maiden, until this great ball 
Has never a thought of the heavens at all ! 



II 

Here, while I listen, you 
Glisten and glisten, you 
Smile as I christen you 
Bright light, white light, 
One light, sun light. 
No name is light enough, 
No name is bright enough, 
No name is white enough, 
Dearest, for you. 

O wonderful thief of all sorrows I name you ! 
Behold, in this prison I'll shame you and tame you, 
And whisper and sing of the bright glowing flame you 
Have kindled within this poor heart that would blame 

you 
With fervent caresses, forever the same. You 
Must come to the arms that are waiting to claim you ! 

Come ! Nearest, dearest ; clearest eyes ! 

Truer, bluer, than the skies — 

Ease and please the heart that lies 
Yearning for you ! 



Ill 

Am I white ? I did not know it ! 
Am I aged ? Do I show it ? 
Ugh ! I hate the head of gray, 
Laughing at the young and gay, 
Like a ghost of yesterday ! 
Put your hand upon my brow ; 
Smooth me, soothe me. Quickly now 

[12] 



Rub away that ugly frown ; 

Turn the silver into brown ; 

Thrust your fairy fingers through it — 

Fairy fingers soon will do it ! 

Come, dear maid, and swiftly sprinkle 

Happy smiles in every wrinkle ; 

More and more ! Another . . . Plenty ! 

Now, again I'm five and twenty ! 

Five and twenty ! Ah, I feel it ; 
Nothing, nothing can conceal it ! 
Sweet one of a thousand poses, 
Come with me among the roses ; 
Only there, as heaven's above you, 
Can I tell you how I love you ! 
Queen of merriment and glee, 
Come, my darling, come with me ! 



[13] 



I 



THE SUN-SONG 

AM the brilliant sun, 



The shining sun, 
To youth and laughter pleasantly I run. 
I beam, I glow, I beam and glow again 
And nothing know of sorrow nor of pain — 
Because I am the sun, 
The friendly sun. 

Ablaze with all the beauty of my reign ! 
Oh ! world, dost thou not know I am the sun 
Shining and joyful over God's domain.? 

I am the yellow sun — 

The shining sun. 

And only fair deeds cloak me. I am done 

With clouds that veil the happy heart of man. 

My soul was builded on a lovelier plan ; 

Because I am the sun, 

The friendly sun, 

And all my being to good-nature ran ! 

Oh ! nothing am I but the laughing sun 

And naught but joy and merriment I scan ! 

I am the singing sun, 

The shining sun — 

And Faith's the gleaming battle I have won. 

How beautiful it is to sweetly shine 

O'er grumbUng manhood, o'er earth's weary whine. 



[14] 



Bravely I am the sun, 

The friendly sun, 

And heaven hath said my image is divine ! 

And well I know it . . . Oh, I am the sun 

And all the great immortal worlds are mine ! 



[15] 



THE HOPE-TREE 

THERE'S a happy joy-bird singing in the fair 
hope-tree — 
A simple joy-bird singing in the bough of yonder 
tree : 
He's a cheery Uttle fellow 
In a coat of red and yellow, 
And he laughs and jests and teases, 
Tantalizes and yet pleases — 
And his heart came down from heaven to my fair hope- 
tree ! 

There's a bright and blessed birdling in the fair 

hope-tree, 
He is beaming on my spirit from the bough of yonder 
tree! 
And I wonder why, unbidden, 
He so long from me was hidden 
In the dreary autumn's blowing 
And the weary winter's snowing, 
When the days dragged on so slowly 'neath the still 
hope-tree ! 



There's a happy song-bird singing in the fair hope- 
tree, 

Singing songs of praise and promise in the bough of 
yonder tree ! 



[i6] 



And his mellow voice grows stronger, 
And his wild enchantments longer 
As he sings, the while I listen 
That the earth may gleam and glisten, 
Through the lightly swaying branches of the fair 
hope-tree ! 



[17] 



H 



MORNING 

'AIL ! O glorious morning I 

Dawn of a perfect day ! 

No more the bright world scorning 

Shall death and discord play. 
The radiant skies give warning, 
And he who stops the way 
Must step aside and leave the space for those who 
come to pray. 

Beauty breathing from the mountain, 

Beauty singing in the square, 
Beauty sleeping by the fountain, 
Beauty everywhere : 
Oh, the world is full of beauty, and life is free and 

fair, 
And sweet the message that comes to me from 
whispers in the air ! 

Hail ! O glorious morning ! 

Dawn of a perfect day. 
The new earth is adorning 
Herself in bright array ; 
And death and darkness scorning 
Resumes her gracious sway ; 
The clouds have melted before the sun, beauty 

has come to stay ! 
Oh, the world is a world of beauty, and life is fair 

and free. 
And the songs it sings and the joys it brings are 
sent for you and me. 

[i8] 



w^ 



A BIRD SINGING IN THE GARDEN 

{To a child) 

HO am I? 
Who am I ? 
Who am I ? 
You ask, 
As if I could really tell ! 
Does the sun 'neath whose goodness we brown and 
bask, 
From the palace down to the cell, 
Go shouting a name from his throne of might 
To the birds as they twitter and hop ? 
Why, he is so many in heaven's great sight, 
He would never know where to stop! 

He is all! 

He is all! 

He is all! 

(Do you hear?) 
He's the Universe happy and whole! 
(But who dares to christen a soul ?) 
And he'd laugh at one name 
And eternally blame 
You and cry: *' Little dame!" 

(Do you hear ?) 

He is all. 

As I'm all, 
Neither measured nor small, 
Nor bound by just a mere name — 

(Do you hear?) 
Nor bound by just a mere name! 

[19] 



Who am I ? 

Who am I ? 
Who am I ? 
(For shame !) 
Is fire not more than its flame, 
Its flame ? 
It is all that it touches and all that it moves, 
Defying dull Science that questions and proves ! 
'Tis the best of the dream 
That we're more than we seem, 
Not bound by a name, just a name — 
(For shame !) 
Ask easier things, little dame, 

(Do you hear ?) 
Ask easier things, little dame ! 



[20] 



o 



INSPIRATION 

PEOPLE ! on this day of cheer I'll tell you how 
to sing ! 

You surely know 

That true songs flow 
As flows the crystal spring ! 

They are at ease 

With bird and breeze 
And nag the singer's heart, 

Till, pure and high, 

Sweet melody 
Becomes his better part. 

Oh, drink the air 
And pray your pray'r 
For higher light to win you. 
The golden while 
Stray mile on mile 
Until the lyric 's in you ! 
And oh, be simple and sincere ! 

The earth has long been grieving 
For just that little word of cheer 
That you've alone been weaving ! 

Be just and gentle in your ways 

(Not for the world's approving), 
And generous with your neighbor's praise 
And live for love and loving. 
O drink the air 
And pray your pray'r 



[21] 



For highest light to win you. 

The golden while 

Stray mile on mile 
And God shall blossom in you I 



[22] 



GOD IS NEAR 

'OD is trying to speak with me and I am trying 
to hear ; 

But the angry roar of an angry sea 
Has told my soul that it is not free ; 

And my strange, imperfect ear 
Has only caught, on the breast of day, 
The strain of a song that is far away, — 
So I sit and listen and humbly pray. 
For God is near. 

God is trying to speak with me and I am trying to hear. 
The sea that held me has gone to sleep, 
And still is the voice of the cruel deep, — 

No longer shall I fear. 
I have found the chord that is true and right, — 
The chord of Promise, and Love, and Light, 
That comes to banish the curse of night. 

God is near. 

God is trying to speak with me and I am trying to hear. 
Away with the gold that is won by death 
Of mind and body. (O Nazareth ! 

O living, breathing tear !) 
Away, away with the realists' hand. 
Away with the tyrants that slave the land. 
For the heart must sing and the stars command. 

(God is near.) 
And soothe and comfort the voice of pain, 
Man's Eden must return again, 
And the Christ that suffered must live and reign. 

(God is near.) 

[23] 



And hush and silence the battle's din, — 

And lift forever the mists of sin 

That veil the wealth of the God within. 

(God is near.) 
And strive, O strive to be brave and true ; 
The world is dying of me and you 
And the deeds undone that we both might do ! 

(God is near.) 

God is trying to speak with me and I am trying to hear. 
O pray that we may not grow too weak 
To hearken to One when He tries to speak 

Through prophet, saint, and seer. 
And love His image that fills the eyes 
Of men and women that seek the skies ; 
For the soul must die if it will not rise ! 

(God is near.) 



[24] 



THE LADY OF GOOD HOPE 

A WOMAN fair came joyously across the sun-lit 
hill. 
"I am," she said, "the dear earth's guest — the Lady 
of Good Will ! " 

" Alas ! " I cried, " this wilderness is desolate and 

drear." 
'* No, no," she answered, "not to me, the Lady of 

Good Cheer!" 

"Behold," I said, "the weary hearts that struggle in 

the grove." 
" I know them and for them I live, the Lady of Pure 

Love; 

But I can only see the sheep on yonder gentle slope, 
And One who calls me *Mary'!" said the Lady of 
Good Hope. 

"Art thou indeed the mother-maid.?" I whispered 

half in pray'r. 
" Dear child," she answered tenderly, and passed me 

in the air ! 



[25] 



O FOR A THOUSAND HANDS 



o 



FOR a thousand hands ! 
Tender and white and kind — 
That the world might sway 
In the light of day 
To the land of the Perfect Mind ; 
That the tears of sorrow and sin and shame 
Might leave their burden of blight and blame 
And learn to cherish my spirit-name. 
O for a thousand hands ! 

O for a thousand hands ! 
Tender and large and strong — 
That their deeds might pray 
For the coming day 
Through the nights that are dark and long; 
For in times of travail the nights are such ; 
And the heart of the woman that loved too much 
Might live again at my gentle touch. 
O for a thousand hands ! 

O for a thousand hands ! 
For hands that are smooth and rough. 
I toil all day 
In the common way, 
But I am not large enough. 
'Tis a weary stretch to the crying beach, 
And the soul goes farther than hands can reach ; 
I must write the sermon I cannot preach. 
O for a thousand hands ! 



[26] 



O for a thousand hands ! 
The Master's work to do. 
I toil all day 
As a woman may, 
But my hands are only two ! 
I stand alone in the village street, 
The sad world falling about my feet, 
While the suff'ring God and the stars entreat 
O for a thousand hands ! 



[27] 



w 



THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF GOD 

HY seeks't thou but the glowing sky 
Thy Father to adore? . . . 
Look forth and drink His message high 

Who standeth at the door. 
" Tis but a bird from yonder nest 

So cold and frail to see." 
Then take him safely to thy breast — 
Thy God hath come to thee! 

Why turn thy footsteps to the hill 

To say thy little pray'r ? 
Behold! one sitteth, white and still, 

Who used to be so fair! 
"Tis but a maid who cannot rest, 

A maid of tears and sighs!" 
Then soothe the heart that is oppressed - 

God liveth in her eyes ! 

Why turn thy gaze to view the sun, 

O stranger ? Far below 
A wretched life shall soon be run — 

A life that loved thee so! 
" Tis but a youth by joy unblest, 
Who soon shall mark the sod": 
Make room ! thou hast another guest — 

For all of these are God ! 

Look not so high, nor look so long 
For Him thou wouldst have near : 

Lo! by thy side and in thy song 
His image shall appear ! 

[28] 



Look not so high nor look so far 

For Him thou wouldst embrace, 
Who comes from out a golden star 

To save a dying race ! 
O comrade, ere with thoughtless eye 

Thou wingest heaven o'er, 
Look forth and drink His message high 

Who standeth at the door ! 



[29] 



THE FIRST SPRING 

BACKWARD we fly, through the sunlight's gleam, 
To the home of the earliest flower — 
Back to the joys of Life's youngest dream 
And the birth of the Spring's first hour ! 

Spring ! Spring ! Spring ! Spring ! 

Who says he has heard it before — 
The word that falls from the poet's wing 

To sparkle forevermore ? 

Spring ! Spring ! Spring ! Spring ! 

Who says he has listened too long 
To the million voices that flow and fling 

Their music into her song ? 

Dear comrade, there never was Spring to name 

Before this dawn of grace. 
It is only now you can call and claim 

Her young and lovely face ! 

Spring never has been, o'er mead and mount, 

Before this blessed day ; 
The first it is (oh, you need not count !) — 

The first in the world, I say ! 

We thought it was spring last year, my love, 

When the moon shone in our eyes, 
And the trees hung over to smile and send 

Our whisperings to the skies. 



[30] 



And you did not know, and I did not know 

(For our vision was so small, 
I could not know and you could not know) 

That it was not Spring at all ! 

Until this morn 
She was not born 
To consecrate the earth ; 
These silver rills 
That voice the hills 
Baptized her after birth ! 
And the great pine tree, 
Beyond you and me. 
Was godfather, brave and true ; 
And the willow there, 
So young and fair, 
Stood godmother ; and the blue 
That stretched high over the hopes of man 

Was the dome of the church we knew, 
And the birds flew into the loft and ran 
A thousand masses through I 

Never, never, never, my love, again and again I 

say. 
It has never been Spring's sweet task to reign 
Before this natal day! 

Open the window and lean far out 

To meet the flood of light ; 
Open the window and hear me shout 

I am done with the night, the night ! 

[31] 



For a wonderful morn has come to stay, 

Beneficent with sun, 
And a voice chants over the leafy way. 

The world has just begun ! 
And June will come to woo and win 

And quicken sea and sod 
(The sweetest flower that blossoms in 

The calendar of God) ! 
Her petals rare shall saunter out, 

East, west, and south and north, 
To tell us what we think about 

And drag our secrets forth ! 

(A Voice from the Grass.) 

Oh, I am a meadow of shining gold, 

This glorious first Spring ! 
And a thousand souls do I make and mold 

This beautiful first Spring ! 
I am every flower in wood and wold 
(The great Creator's face I hold) ; 
I was never bought, I was never sold ; 

O heavenly first Spring ! 

(An Echo from the Fields.) 

Over me walk with tenderness. 

For I am the Spring, the Spring! 
And open my throat ; I must confess 

That I am dying to sing ! 
Oh, stifle me not with your unbelief, 

And you : who are you to fling 
Down into the world of glee and grief 

The words of the one glad Spring ? 

[32] 



(A Message from the Trees.) 

Listen, listen, listen, my love, — 

I will not keep you long ; 
I am only the heart of a brand-new day 

Turned into a song, a song ! 
Oh, listen, listen : you cannot know, 

'Till the flag of truth is unfurled, 
That this is the first and only Spring 

There ever was in the world. 

(In the Vineyard — Child.) 

Mother, mother, mother of mine, 

O mother, what would you give 
If I told you this little trailing vine 

Is really going to live ? 
Last eve your song was sad and drear, 

And once I heard you sigh, 
And I know, my own (though you shed no 
tear), 

You thought it was going to die ! 
But the sunlight has enchanted it. 
And see — I have transplanted it ! 

(With Entreaty.) 

mother, mother, mother of mine, 
Look not away so far ; 

And dry your eyes and tell me now 
How pleased and proud you are ! 

The Spring is here, so weep no more ; 
Our prayers were not in vain ; 

1 promise you this little vine 

Will never wither again ! 

[33] 



'Twill flourish, bloom and multiply, and grow and 

grow and grow, 
Until it links divided worlds (O mother, weep not so !) 
And it shall seek and surely find upon some gentle 

shore 
The step you miss and only think that you shall hear 

no more ! 

(A Voice from the Auditorium.) 

Since I am the shadow of Art, oh let 

Me follow the workers where 
They pause and falter and may forget 

The missions of the air ! 
Painter and poet and singer am I, 

And the eyes of the world for aye. 
And I labor under Life's canopy. 

Create ! Create ! I say ! 

Hearken, hearken, O wondrous Art 

(The voice of a new-made Earth) ! 
I am here before you to bare my heart 

And sing of your splendid worth ! 
And if I am a stone in the winding lane 

That climbs the mountain steep, 
I pray you lift me over the plain 

And cast me into the deep ! 

Spring ! Spring ! Spring ! Spring ! 

Who says he has heard it before — 
The word that falls from the poet's wing 

To sparkle forevermore ? 

[34] 



Spring ! Spring ! Spring ! Spring ! 

Who says he has listened too long 
To the million voices that flow and fling 

Their music into her song ? 

Dear people, there never was Spring to name 

Before this dawn of grace ; 
It is only now you can call and claim 

Her young and lovely face. 
Spring never has been o'er mead and mount 

Before this blessed day. 
The first it is (oh, you need not count I) — 

The first in the world, I say ! 



[35] 



H 



"HA! HA! HA!" 

'A! ha! ha! 
Ha! ha! ha! 
Just toss away your sorrows with a 
Ha! ha! ha! 
There's a stupid beauty-thief, 
And his name is Needless Grief ; — 
And a wicked watch he's keeping, 
For he sets the whole world weeping 
Till some angel comes to cheer it with a 
Ha! ha! ha! 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
Just toss away your sorrows with a 
Ha! ha! ha! 

There's a most successful doctor in our neighborhood: 
He doesn't deal in medicine, but ah ! he does you 
good ! 
You can see him for a mile 
With his pleasant, genial smile 
And the joke upon his spirit singing : 
Ha! ha! ha! 

And now, 'twixt me and you, 
Does it help you to be blue ? 
Does it make you half so dear 
As to radiate good cheer 
As you toss away your sorrows with a 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
Ha! ha! ha! 
Just toss away your sorrows with a 
Ha! ha! ha! 

[36] 



What a wretched view vou've had 

That rehgion is so sad ! 

Cast that long face in the sea — 

Joy is here for you and me ! 

Melancholy's an offence ; 

Don't be witless, don't be dense! 

Send your troubles forth to roam — 

Surely heaven is your home ! 

There's a message sweet enough 

If the road 's a little rough ! 

Don't go foolishly pursuing 

Tasks that other souls are doing ! 

Be content with what you are — 

Just remember you're a star. 

Oh, forget that silly whine, 

Longing for another's line. 

Do your own work with a zest, 

Do your noblest, do your best, 

Pausing not, and not comparing, 

Only love and good-will sharing. 

'Tis a happy, holy way. 

Living on from day to day. 

With the grace of God about you, singing 

Ha! ha! ha! 

Ha! ha! ha! 

Just toss away your sorrows with a 

Ha! ha! ha! 



[37] 



OH, LET ME SING 

OH, let me sing ! 
The sun, the birds, the grief-defying trees 
Are joyous minstrels, playing with the breeze. 
Through field and forest gleeful echoes ring — 
Oh, let me sing ! 

Oh, let me sing ! 
Full well I know the sky is clouded o'er. 
That Hope and I have quarreled, and no more 
Life flies before me borne on golden wing, 

Yet, let me sing ! 

Oh, let me sing ! 
The heart and all its veins for joy were born ; 
The soul God saved me from the first fair mom 
Outwits my sorrow, an immortal thing. 

Living to sing ! 



[38] 



RICHES 

SILVER and gold of the mint ! " they cry 
From the world with a rasping voice ; 
"But give me the silver and gold," say I, 
"That heaven finds more choice ! " 

There is gold enough in the buttercup 

To build a home for me, 
And wealth untold when the sun is up 

Over the golden sea ! 

There is silver crowning the queen of night, 

And silver is her throne ; 
There is silver shading the soft moonlight, 

And the trees are silver-blown ! 

There's a glowing splendor at every turn 

In Nature's shining hall : 
'Tis the honest fortune I did not earn, 

And I'm going through it all ! 



[39] 



MY CANDLE 

BY the sanctuary dim and dark 
My candle burned for thee. 
It was only a faint and glimmering spark 
That swayed with the breeze's breath, a mark 
For the wish that guided my soul's frail barque 
(My candle burned for thee). 

When, suddenly, as I lingered there 

(My candle burned for thee), 
There came a stir in the holy air. 
And someone whispered : " My own, my fair, 
I am here on the wings of thy fervent pra/r " - 
(My candle burned for thee). 

**I am here beside thee, my faithful bride" 

(My candle burned for thee.) 
" Thy soul is the home wherein I hide, 
And thy pure spirit my sweetest guide "... 
The west wind whispered, the willow sighed. 
And my candle burned for thee ! 



[40] 



SYMPATHY 

THOU lovest me. Ah, loved one, dost thou know, 
In loving me, how many loves am I ? 
I number more than all the stars that glow 
In shming thousands pressed against the sky. 

Dear love, I am the world, I am each heart 
That sobs and sighs and clamors for a friend ; 

I am of every brotherhood a part 

That finds the true beginning in the end. 

I am the path that seeks untrodden ways, 
Believing in the meadows unrevealed ; 

I am the solace of unhappy days ; 
I am the battle and I am the shield. 

I am the triumph of the Past, that lies 
Upon the Present pointing out the way ; 

I am the Future looking in thine eyes 
To beg a million favors of to-day. 

I am the child that motherless must weep 

To hallow and enchasten all the land ; 
And I am motherhood that cannot sleep 

Without the pressure of a tiny hand. 

I am the maiden waiting for the star 

That, resting in its treasure-home above, 

Brings forth the hidden glories from afar, 
To consecrate the weeping form of Love. 



[41] 



I am the lover of the early dawn, 

By deep and distant yearnings strangely sought, 
Until the shadows lighten and are gone, 

And two at last are wedded by a thought. 

I am the wife that walks with Fate alone. 
More bitter and more tearful than the rain ; 

I am the husband claiming for his own 
The greater burden of divided pain. 

I am the father, merciful and proud. 
Whose life is ever sacrificed for one 

That leans upon him in the lonely crowd 
To listen and grow strong. I am the son. 

I am the master, firm and bold and brave ; 

I reign, I rule, I govern many miles ; 
I am the servant, humble as the wave 

Beneath the land of God that sings and smiles. 

I am the man that counts against his will 

The baubles of a realistic mind ; 
I am the artist shadowed by the skill 

That finds new themes in every passing wind. 

I am the scientist that shuns the light 
Unless a proof is resting in the flame ; 

And I am Faith that looks beyond the night 
To find the promise of the holy name. 



[42] 



I am all these, my Love. Ay, many more : 
I am the Universe, that garden plot 

Where all are good and wise from shore to shore, 
And where no soul exists that I am not. 

I am all these, my Love. Were there one less 
I would not be a woman, large and free ; 

Nor would I boast the vision I possess. 
Did I not meet the Universe in Thee. 



[43] 



SPINNING SONG 

ONE day as I sat at my spinning-wheel, 
When only the spirit stirred — 
One day as I sat at my spinning-wheel 

Awaiting some new word — 
One day as I sat at my spinning-wheel 
I leaned and listened and heard : 

" Oh spin me a cloak for my soul, my soul, 
Of the thread of God's hidden things — 
Oh spin me a cloak for my yearning soul. 

That I may walk with kings — 
Oh spin me a cloak for my lonely soul, 
Of a creamy cloth that clings ! 

Oh spin me a cloak that will shelter me 
With its fabric fine and fair — 

Oh spin me a cloak that will shelter me 
With the beauties of the air — 

Oh spin me a cloak that will shelter me, 
And neither turn nor tear ! " 

So I touched the wheel and around it ran 

In circles sure and swift ; 
And my thoughts flew high as around it ran 

With its pray'r to love and lift : 
Around and around and around it ran, 

Spinning my precious gift ! 



[44] 



Oh I spun you a cloak with a mother' s heart, 

All silver and strong and white ; 
And you tried it on, with its mother's heart, 

And you held it up to the light : 
Oh I spun you a cloak with a mother's heart — 

But it did not answer quite ! 

So I altered it with a sister's thought, 

All tender and kind and true — 
So I changed the cloak with a sister's thought. 

But you said, " It will not do " : 
It was beautiful with a sister's thought, 

Yet it failed to shelter you ! 

So I turned it into a cloak of Love, 

Of Paradise and Hell ; 
Oh I turned it into a cloak of Love, 

With dreams too sweet to tell ; 
But you sighed and said of the cloak of Love : 

" It does not fit me well ! " 

I spoke no word and I made no moan, 

But my spirit was dismayed — 
Oh I spoke no word and I made no moan 

I could not be afraid : 
Oh I spoke no word and I made no moan — 

I only prayed and prayed. 



[45] 



I prayed till the sky inclined to me 

And hovered over the land. 
I prayed until God came down to me, 

And touched the cloak with His hand. 
I prayed till my work grew under me, 

Fulfilling His command. 

Then you took the mantle that God had made 
And you flung it over your breast, 

And you kissed the hem of the cloak He made 
And breathed upon and blessed. 

Oh, you wore the mantle that God had made, 
And it became you best ! 



[46] 



YOU 

YOU! You! You! 
It is ever and ever of you 
The world is now singing, 
Has ever been singing, 
Shall ever be singing 

Of you ! 
The teacher I loved as a child, 
Commanding and forcefully mild. 
He was not whom they thought — 
He was you ! 
'T was your likeness he clearly expressed 
That gave him a place in my breast, 
Always yearning and yearning for you I 
Always yearning, my darling, for you 1 
Always, ever and ever, for you ! 
He was not whom they thought, — 
He was you ! 
It was you whom I loved, 

It was you ! 
It was not my good master, 
But you ! 

You! You! You! 

It is ever and ever of you 

The world is now singing, 

Has ever been singing, 

Shall ever be singing 
Of you ! 
The boy whom I met in the street, 
Of sympathies tender and sweet, 

[47] 



He was not whom they thought, — 

He was you ! 
And the flower he handed to me 
Came from you far across the deep sea, 
Always breathing and breathing of you ! 
Always breathing, my darling, of you ! 
Always, ever and ever, of you ! 

He was not whom they thought, — 

He was you ! 
It was you whom I thanked — 

It was you ! 
It was not my good comrade. 
But you ! 

You! You! You! 
It is ever and ever of you 
The world is now singing. 
Has ever been singing, 
Shall ever be singing 
Of you ! 
In the friend and companion I love 
Does your image most graciously rove 
Until both are o'ershadowed 

By you ! 
And from earth to the skies that are blue 
I see nothing but thousands of you ! 
Each man that is brave, 

He is you ! 
Each voice that is sweet, 

It is you ! 
Each tree breathing strength. 
It is you ! 

[48] 



Each poem I read 

Is of you ! 
Each picture I see 

Tells of you ! 
Each song that I hear 

Praises you ! 



All goodness, my darling, 

Is you ! 
All courage, my darling, 

Is you ! 
All possessors of beauty 

Are you ! 
All the loved and the loving 

Are you ! 
All hearts that are honest 

Are you ! 
All eyes that are truest 
Are you ! 
I see nothing but thousands of you ! 
Always thousands and thousands of you ! 
Always thousands, my darling, of you ! 
Always, ever and ever, of you ! 
You! You! You! 
It is ever and ever of you 
The world is now singing, 
Has ever been singing, 
Shall ever be singing 
Of you ! 



[49] 



THE CRY OF THE FUTURE 

I HEAR the rain — 
The universe shedding its tears of rain 
Over the flowers and fields of grain — 
Over my heart that will break with pain 
I hear the rain. 

From across the way 

Through the mists of gray 

Comes the cry of the child unborn : 

** O give me the light 

Of my own birthright 

On this dark pre-natal morn ! 
Give me not anger and lust and tears — 
Give me not bitterness old with fears — 
Give me the crown of the saints and seers; 

(I hear the rain.) 

Give me the mind that is yours to give — 

Give me the heart that can love and live, 

God-like and loyal and positive. 

(I hear the rain.) 

And give me the best 

From the mother-breast 

In the form of her whitest thought ; 

And measure the length 

Of the father-strength 

In the life of the father wrought, 

And give me a soul 

That is large and whole — 



[50] 



A soul that can sob and sing; 
For this is the light 
Of my own birthright 
And the will of my God and king ! " 
I hear the rain — 
The universe shedding its tears of rain 
Over the flowers and fields of grain — 
Over my heart that will break with pain 
I hear the rain. 



[51] 



PHILOSOPHY 

WHEN I retrace the steps of yesterday 
I see thee only in thy noblest light 
And count thy virtues over the array 

Of clouds that hide the planets of the night. 

The curtain lifts ! and oh ! so gladly I 

Behold thee strong and tender, blest and rare ; 

For every rose-bud, sainted with a sigh, 

Hath saved thee by the beauty of her prayer. 

Each favored flower thou hast breathed upon 
Hath grown immortal over wold and wood ; 

And, looking backward, victory is won, 
And, looking forward, everything is good ! 



[52] 



ROMEO 

ONE William Shakespeare, by a love-dream led, 
Called forth the wind's quaint messengers and 

said : 
** Fair maids, in all directions ye must fly 
To gather sweet love-tokens — from the sky, 
The stars, the amber sunsets, from the lay 
Of heart-birds singing to content the day. 
From flowers that dream and trees that speak in 

rhyme, — 
In truth, from all the lands of Father Time 
Bear endless treasures. Capture and beguile 
The rich, magnetic charm of many a mile 
O'er field and mountain ! " So the four maids flew 
Beyond the earth of Reason, o'er the dew, 
Across the paths of Eloquence, in still 
And mystic corners of the broken will . . . 
They fluttered home at midnight. The low croon 
Of fays arose from hills beneath the moon. 
" Now for my gifts ! " great Shakespeare said, and each 
Deposited her wealth with flowery speech : 

Joy. 

Rapture, 

Melancholy, 

Grief — 

and lo ! 
From all these things he fashioned Romeo ! 



[53] 



ASPIRATION 

** TN life what wouldst thou wish to be ? " said they 

A Who gathered 'round me at the close of day. 
" Listen, my friends," I answered ; " I would be 
A faithful lighthouse, by the human sea, — 
Firm, resolute, immovable, I'd shine. 
Baptized by breakers, sainted by the brine ; 
A loyal flame of loving thought, a light 
Defying dangers, triumphing o'er night ; 
A kind, persistent spark, that would extend 
O'er rock-bound sea-coast for a helpless friend ; 
A changeless, towering sum of strength to show 
The safety of the waters . . . Friend and foe 
I'd shelter and inspire ; nor would I fail 
Nor falter in the tumult of the gale. 
Ay, this the joy my soaring soul would find 
To shed its constant blessing o'er mankind. 
A stately word immortal, I would gleam 
Above the depth and darkness of the stream. 
High, hopeful, ever married to my post, 
I'd be a lighthouse on the human coast, 
A tranquil mother, pausing not for sleep, 
A watch-tower ever smiling o'er the deep. 



[54] 



HOPE 

HOPE! hope! hope! 
There is nothing but hope on earth! 
From Eden to man's rebirth, 
From Christ to this day of worth, 
There's been nothing but hope on earth I 
Let your songs be only of hope — 
There is nothing but hope on earth ! 

Sorrow ? There never was sorrow, so why should you 

murmur and cry ? 
In all the wide world there is nothing that should shut 

out the blue of the sky. 
The tears that are dimming the sunlight, the shadows 

that darken your trust. 
Only blot out the light that should cheer you and are 

dragging you down to the dust. 

Who am I ? Indeed I am many : Past, Present and 

Future, my friend ! 
I'm the face that you see in the distance. I was and 

I am to the end. 
I am All, and not one is excluded — the Universe, 

happy and whole. 
Is the life that is working within me, the name of my 

worshiping soul! 

I am Hope! the light in the window for the millions 

of wandering feet 
That wander in danger and darkness and long for a 

place of retreat ; 

[55] 



An anchor which holds the ship steady when the flag 

of the storm is unfurled, 
A haven of peace and of safety, — I am Hope, the 

hope of the world ! 

I burned in the breast of the sailor, tossed high on 

the turbulent waves, 
Hastening back to the home of his kindred to find 

only fresh-covered graves ; 
I'm the lover who dreamed of his sweetheart, and 

waked to discover instead 
That she, whose white arms should enfold him, had 

risen and silently fled. 

I followed the silent form 

By anguish shaken, 
I cleared the cruel storm 

Only to waken. 

But yet God left, in his infinite grace, the way to her 

spirit free. 
And I called to her soul from my own soul's depths, 

and the answer came back to me ; 
She leaned far over the shining clouds, and spoke in 

my listening ear : 
" There is nothing but hope in the land of God ; take 

heart, there is naught to fear ! " 

Hope! hope! hope! 
There is nothing but hope on earth. 
From Eden to man's rebirth, 
From Christ to this day of worth, 

[56] 



There's been nothing but hope on earth. 
Let your songs be only of hope — 
There is nothing but hope on earth. 

I whisper the maiden who sits and grieves because 

love has passed her by; 
I cheer the stricken wife who has wept till the fount 

of her tears is dry; 
I comfort the mother whose heart is wrung for the 

child who has gone astray, 
And the mourners whose tears are in silence shed 

for the dead they have laid away. 
I call to the weak and discouraged, " Look up ! be 

brave!" It is wrong 
To grieve the heart of the dear old world that hungers 

to be strong! 
The best you worship in one beloved, the beauty you 

adore, 
Shall live and serve you and be your friend now and 

f orevermore ! 

" How can I live and be glad ? " you ask. Why, a 

mother always grieves 
When the tender prize of her sacred love is lying 

under the leaves. 
There once was a time in the cruel past, when, chilled 

by a woman's fears, 
A grief might have entered my golden days and 

washed them away with tears. 



[57] 



But now I see 
In each fair thing that grows 

One dear to me ! 
The grateful spirit knows 

He did not die . . . 
Oh friend, from mile to mile 

My loving eye 
Beholds his beauteous smile ! 

So I do not sigh as a mother sighs whose loss has 

made her lone, 
I only sing as a mother sings who cannot lose her own ! 
Sorrow ? There never was sorrow, so why should you 

murmur and cry ? 
In all the wide world there is nothing that should shut 

out the blue of the sky. 
The tears that are dimming the sunlight, the shadows 

that darken your trust. 
Only blot out the light that should cheer you and are 

dragging you down to the dust. 

Hope! hope! hope! 

There is nothing but hope on earth. 

From Eden to man's rebirth. 

From Christ to this day of worth 

There's been nothing but hope on earth. 

Let your songs be only of Hope — 

There is nothing but hope on earth ! 



[S8] 



THE POWER OF LOVE 

I SANG because the nightingale was still, — 
Because the world and I were all alone ; 
My only list'ner was the dreaming hill 

That Phoebus meets, at eve, to call his own. 

Unreason wedded Love long, long ago. 

And, wedding Love, Unreason wedded me, 

That I might beg the wand'ring winds to blow 
My song across the great, responsive sea ! 

I called them hither, singing with the strength 
Born of a pow'r that heaven and you had brought, 

Until the dreary miles forgot their length 

And married shore to shore and thought to 
thought ! 



[59] 



"ALONE IN THE RAIN" 

SWEETHEART, sweetheart! 
Say, dost thou know me ? 
Drenched have I come through the damp, leafy lane. 
Hast thou no hope in thy welcome to show me ; 
Proud little sweetheart, 
Alone in the rain ? 

Sweetheart, sweetheart ! 

Far, far above me 
The angels are calling o'er mountain and plain. 
Listen, they bid thee to look forth and love me, 

Poor little sweetheart, 

Alone in the rain ! 

Sweetheart, sweetheart ! 

Oh, let me lead thee 
Close to the sound of our dear wedding strain! 
I have the pray'r book of Love I must read thee, 

Sad little sweetheart, 

Alone in the rain ! 

Sweetheart, sweetheart. 

Thou wilt not grieve me ! 
Long have I sought thee o'er meadow and main ; 
And I've a wit that refuses to leave thee, — 

My little sweetheart. 

Alone in the rain ! 



[60] 



DIVINE INJUSTICE 

WHEN autumn leaves were winging 
Through woodlands dark and chill, 
And sky-bells, softly ringing, 

Compelled me to be still, 
I heard an angel singing 
Across God's tuneful hill. 

"I watch," he chanted slowly, 
'* The saints "... Divinely sweet 

His lovely voice and lowly 
That hastened to repeat : 

** I watch the saints so holy 
In heaven's fair retreat ! " 

"Thou child," I answered, "weeping 
Dims eyes that still should see ; 

The saints, awake or sleeping, 
Have little need of thee ! 

Come down from thy cloud-keeping 
And make a man of me ! " 



[6x] 



SONG 

*^T~^WAS centuries ago, my love, 

J. And thou wert by my side ; 
Where soft winds o'er the water rove 

I named thee for my bride. 
Star-trodden was the sky above 

(How noiselessly we glide !) 
'Twas centuries ago, my love. 

And thou wert by my side ! 

'Twas centuries ago, my love. 

In Egypt's pomp and pride 
A spirit in my spirit wove 

A hope too long denied ! 
I heard the murmur of a dove 

And saw the Crucified — 
'Twas centuries ago, my love, 

And thou wert by my side ! 

'Twas centuries ago, my love 

And thou wert by my side ; 
Where soft winds o'er the waters rove 

I named thee for my bride. 
Star-trodden was the sky above 

(How noiselessly we glide !) 
'Twas centuries ago, my love, 

We met and prayed and died ! 



[62] 



A LOVER'S SONG 

SHE is more golden than the golden sun, 
More silver than the silver moonlight's glow; 
More fair, more rare, more holy than the one 
I taught my heart to worship long ago ! 

She is more starry than the stars that fall 
Speechless beneath her beauty. In her eyes 

I see my bride, my heaven and my all, — 
My light, my love, my deathless Paradise ! 

She is a rose in God's own garden born — 
A queenly rose, to counsel and to bless — 

A saintly rose with not a single thorn 

Among the white wealth of her loveliness ! 

She is my angel, my most lofty pray'r. 
The sweetest message written in the sky; 

And she hath touched the harp-strings of the air 
And set to music all eternity ! 



1^3] 



CHRISTMAS 

PARTED the clouds o'er the Land of Light 
From the sorrowing earth afar, — 
Parted, the clouds on a dark midnight, 
For the birth of the eastern star! 

There were lowly shepherds that came to pray 
The pray'rs that hallowed their weary way 

Through the vales of sin and death ; 
For lo! in the hush of a wondrous morn, 
The hope of the universe was born, — 

The king of Nazareth ! 

Oh loveless world, didst thou fall asleep ? 
Or hadst thou forgotten thy watch to keep ? 
(Dear child, in thy dreaming I saw thee weep!) 

For only the wise men came to see 
The Christ of the far Gethsemane, — 
Only the mother prayed with them 
By the mystic shrine of Bethlehem, 
And only the angels sang, above. 
The harmonies of Life and Love ! 



Thou sleeper silent and slow to hear, 

With the hope of heaven so near, so near, 

How like thou art to the cruel earth 

That slumbered knowing the Saviour's birth! 



[64] 



W! 



THE KING OF THE EVERYWHERE 

'HAT do you see 
In the swaying tree 
As it toys with the breeze all day ? 
And oh ! what grows 
In the blushing rose 
That hides your grief away ? 

And what do you trace 

In the laughing face 
Of the child with eyes of blue ? 

And what is the plan 

Of the full-grown man 
As he looks you through and through ? 

And what is your part 

Of the lover's heart 
As you smile with tearful bliss ? 

And what is the pray'r 

In the mother fair 
As she stoops her child to kiss ? 

And what do you find 

In the sighing wind 
As it sweeps the gleaming shore ? 

And what is there spun 

In the father-sun 
As he guards the great world o'er ? 

And what is so free 
In the pearl-blest sea 
As it flows upon the night ? 

[65] 



And what is so high 
In the mother-sky 
As she turns the whole world white ? 

Oh, what is it then, 

Ye stalwart men 
And women that mount the hill — 

What can it be 

That you feel and see 
And hear at the touch of will ? 

Oh, what is the song 

That is strong and long 
As it sings through the night and day ? 

Answer, ye men, 

Over mead and glen, 
Oh, answer, ye men, and say ! 



It is God you see 

In the swaying tree 
That plays with the breeze all day ! 

It is God that grows 

In the blushing rose 
That hides your grief away ! 

It is God you trace 

In the laughing face 
Of the child with eyes of blue ! 

It is God's own plan 

In the full-grown man 
As he looks you through and through ! 

[66] 



It is God's own chart 

In the lover's heart 
As you smile with tearful bliss ! 

It is God's own pray'r 

In the mother fair 
As she stoops her child to kiss ! 

It is God you find 

In the sighing wind 
As it sweeps the gleaming shore ! 

It is God that's spun 

In the father-sun 
As he guards the great world o'er ! 

It is God that's free 

In the pearl-blest sea 
As it flows upon the night ! 

It is God that's high 

In the mother-sky 
As she turns the whole world white ! 

It is God's own song 

That is strong and long 
Through the night and the daylight fair! 

It is God above 

That is Life and Love 
And the King of Everywhere ! 



[67] 



I 



HOME 

■'M for the home, 

The holy, happy home ! 
That haven sweet 
For weary feet, 
I'm for the kindly home ! 
A hearth-fire bright 
That doth invite 
All brother hearts to come . . . 
No tinsel fame 
Nor sounding name 
Can lure me as the home ! 
Oh, beautiful the atmosphere God lavished on the 

home! 
Dear woman, is there anything as sacred as the home? 

I'm for the home of music and of lays, 

Of cheer and sympathy and light, of counsel and of 

praise, 
Where, hidden from the common eye, the fair Ma- 
donna strays ! 

I'm for the home 

And all its pleasant ways ! 

I'm for the home ! 

The calm, consoling home, — 

That soothing sky 

Of harmony ; 
I'm for the happy home ! 

A light to bless 

The soul's distress 
Between the winds that roam. 

[68] 



A castle good 
Of motherhood ; 
I'm for the loving home ! 
Oh, beautiful the atmosphere God lavished on the 

home I 
Dear woman, is there anything as sacred as the home ? 

I'm for the home, and for the home implore 

The best of all high thoughts and deeds, — ah, yes 

and something more : 
A home so true you would not start if Christ stood at 
the door 1 

I'm for the home 
And all it has in store I 



[69] 



LOVE'S ANGEL 

{On the marriage of two poets) 

I HEARD a voice, and, looking high above, 
I saw an angel radiant with love. 
" Thou shining child," I said, " art thou a light 
To lift us o'er the darkness of the night ? 
A torch of faith ? An instrument divine ? 
A tuneful minstrel from a heavenly line ? 
What is thy holy word ? " I whispered, " Oh, 
Thou art so dazzling in thy spirit's glow, 
Thou dost enchant me ! Tell me, art thou come 
To breathe to us dear secrets of a home 
Resting behind the clouds ? Or art thou one 
Descended from the warm and friendly sun 
To lead us to contentment ? 'Tis a truth, 
(Though age should measure words with dreaming 

youth 
And I should measure mine !) since Adam's birth 
There have been many troubles o'er the earth. 
Oh, hast thou journeyed over fields of pain 
To lead us back to Paradise again } " 

"Ah, truly dost thou speak," the fair child sighed. 
" In God's own chariot to the earth I ride. 
Ay, truly dost thou speak ! My happy voice 
Floats ever upward, learning to rejoice ! 
I am love's holy angel, and I sing 
The praises of a poet's wedding ring ! 
Wide, limitless, eternal the sweet word 
That bound these two ! — Love's breezes softly 
stirred 

[70] 



And flowers blossomed where they once were rare, 

And lofty spirits drifted through the air, 

And, noiselessly discarding her dark shroud, 

Lost Eden fell upon them from a cloud ! 

Lo ! I have come with hope ! The world may groan, 

111 with the wounds of ages ; winds that moan 

May hold us with false messages ; but I 

Have come to say that love can never die ! 

The grieving past kind heaven shall forgive, 

Since God hath taught two poets how to live . . . 

They read the stars together and let fall 

Dear sparks of immortality to all ! 

They reigned above us with their glorious songs. 

That triumphed over life's unhappy wrongs ! 

They dreamed, they prayed, they listened for the 

sound 
That voiced their meanings with a faith profound, 
Till, soaring to the highest mount, they spake 
For love and loving, ay, for pure love's sake ! 
True is the message I have brought to-day 
And, singing, I must swiftly fly away." . . . 
Then, lifting high his holy little head. 
Love's beauteous angel to the dull world said : 
" Two gifted lovers of the deathless pen 
Have opened heaven to the hearts of men ! 
Ay, lifted them above the weeping sod 
To view the fruitful meadowlands of God. 
Hope have I brought, and comfort, and good cheer. 
For surely love is heaven, and heaven is here I " 



[71] 



"SING ME A SONG" 

SING me a song, dear, 
Sing me a song ! 
Days are so barren and nights are so long. 
Sorrow and grief through the wilderness throng, - 
Sing me a song, dear, 
Sing me a song ! 

Sing me a song, dear. 

Full of the sun — 
Of lightness and brightness, and victories won, 
(I know of the beautiful things thou hast done !) 

Sing me a song, dear, 

Full of the sun ! 



Sing me a song, dear. 

Sing me to rest. 
Oh sing me a song from thy high little nest ! 
I languish for beauty, and beauty is best : 

Sing me a song, dear, 

Sing me to rest ! 



[7^1 



THOUGHTS 

A Voice (from the grass) 

I RISE from the long-, tangled grasses, 
From the fragrance of sweet, aimless flowers, 
From the songs of dear dreamers that love me, 
From the spell of the indolent summer. 
Alone do I rise from my slumber, 
Alone do I stand with my spirit, 
Alone do I fly to my heaven 
Through the eloquent pathway of silence ! 
How my soul reaches forth for the beauty 
That crowned its original splendor 
In the pearl-breathing kingdom of childhood ! 
How it pleads, over thundering voices, 
For its paradise wondrously lovely ! 
How it yearns, in the depth of my pleasures, 
For its home in the heart of the mountain ! . . . 



An Echo (from the hills) 

Oh you, to whom life breathed his secrets 
So intimate, precious and tender ! 
Oh you, whom invisible lovers 
Have gifted with power and plenty ! 
How you long, in the midst of your journey, 
For the beautiful hush of the spirit ! . . . 
I see it and bless you with cloud-dust, 
I feel it with star-pointed fingers, 
I hear it above the earth's language, 
Above the dark word of the midnight. 



[73] 



I know it and bless you forever, 
Because I have sought you in Eden . . . 
I have followed you back to your Eden, 
The fair, gleaming world of high thinkers, 
The white trysting-place of good comrades 
Whose true selves live over all others. 
To lift them to joy everlasting ! 



[74] 



JOSEFITA 

SENORITA 
Josefita, 
Winning, 
Sinning 
Senorita ! 
Naughty, 
Haughty 
Josefita ! 
Fairest of all Spanish faces, 
Richest in all Spanish graces 
Bright boleros, too, and laces : 
Listen while 
I beguile 
Time, and smile 
To surprise 
Your dear eyes 
As I rise 
To sing of the day we took delight in, 
When we saw the great bull-fight in 
Wonderland you made so bright ! In 
Every mood was mischief lurking — 
Working swiftly, swiftly working. 
Never once a duty shirking ! 

Still I served you uncomplaining. 
Though I lost while you were gaining, 
*Twas a joy to see you reigning 
Fair and dashing, 
Dark eyes flashing ! 
Josefita, 
Josefita ! 

[75] 



Lovers clashing, 

When they met you, 

Vowing never 

To forget you, 
Eyed me with the perfect schooling 
Thwarted love attains when fooling 

Is the maiden, 

Lover-laden, 
With the heart she has impressed 
That of all 'tis loved the best 
In this world of sad unrest 1 
Senorita I 
Senorita ! 

Surely, sadly did you rule me I 

Surely, sadly did you school me I 

Surely, sadly did you fool me I 

Dear one, all the while I knew it. 

Knowing, still I let you do it : 

Ah 1 but I have lived to rue it I 

Senorita, ah I how could you 

Serve me as a west wind ? Should you 

Like such treatment dearest ? Would you ? 



Josefita, 
Josefita ! 
Winning, 
Sinning 
Josefita ! 
Senorita, 
Senorita ! 



[76] 



Naughty, 

Haughty, 

Senorita! 
I'll forgive you, 
I'll forgive you, 
Though I'll tell you, 
While you live, you 
Never can I 
Quite forget 1 you 
Never can I 
Quite regret 1 you 
Dear and daring Spanish pet I 

You — 

Josefita ! 



[77] 



EASTERN SONG. 

IT might have been for a thousand years, 
It might have been for a day, — 
As long as a widow's flood of tears, 
As long as a child is gay. 

It might have been for a thousand years, 

It might have been for a day! 
But he never knew and I never knew, 

As in the barge we lay, 

That Time was a breathless bird that flew 
And naught could sing nor say I 

It might have been for a thousand years, 
It might have been for a day I 

It might have been for one glorious noon 

Above yon temple gray, 
When the sun of a love came down too soon 

On the breast of that summer day I 



[78] 



SUMMER AND SILENCE 

I HAVE so much to say I cannot speak : 
Most full is Nature when her tongue is mute. 
Now I recall, and clearly understand, 
The stillness in the depth of Summer's heart, 
Which, when most stUl, in soft midsummer days, 
I, weak of vision, groping in the dark, 
Unblest, unloved, could scarcely comprehend; 
Why, when the season's heart indeed might sing 
The fairest song by any season sung, 
The lovely singer cast such quiet looks. 
Such whispered tones, such murmuring of trees, 
Puzzled the heart that had not learned to beat I 
My love I my love I I understand it all . . . 
Two stars uniting made it clear to me, 
Suggesting the sweet moment when we met, 
And all the countless riches that it brought. 
Making my joy too deep and full for speech. 

Ah, Summer, what a blind, unloving child 
I must have seemed to thy enraptured eyes I 
Or didst thou, broad and great, behold the depth 
Of what in me one day would set my soul 
Adrift upon the sea where love prevails ? 
Oh, thou didst guess my heart was born for this, 
Thy breezes brought such promises of joy ; 
And yet, what child can hear their murmuring 
And know the meaning of their wonder-words ? 
What woman, e'en though sleeping in her grave. 
Can hear without dear dreams of him she loves ? 
Sweet Summer, with thy soul in silence wrapped, 

[79] 



Silence so great that I may know its voice, 
Who feel the stillness born of fullest love, — 
Approach, and as a woman worshipful, 
With soul as richly silent as thy own. 
Let me behold thee with my woman's eyes I 



[80] 



M 



MY BRINDLE BULL-TERRIER 

Y brindle bull-terrier, loving and wise, 
With his little screw-tail and his wonderful 



eyes, 
With his white little breast, and his white little paws, 
Which, alas I he mistakes very often for claws ; 
With his sad little gait as he comes from the fight, 
When he feels that he hasn't done all that he might 1 
Oh, so fearless of man, yet afraid of a frog, 
My near little, queer little, dear little dog I 

He shivers and shivers and shakes with the cold ; 
He huddles and cuddles, though three summers old, 
And, forsaking the sunshine, endeavors to rove 
With his cold little worriments under the stove ! 

At table his majesty, dying for meat, — 
Yet never despising a lump that is sweet, — 
Sits close by my side with his head on my knee 
And steals every good resolution from me I 

How can I withhold from those worshipping eyes 
A small bit of something that stealthily flies 
Down under the table and into his mouth 
As I tell my near neighbor of life in the South , . . 

My near little, queer little, dear little dog, 
So fearless of man, yet afraid of a frog ! 
The nearest and queerest and dearest of all 
The race that is loving and winning and small ; 
The sweetest, most faithful, the truest and best 
Dispenser of merriment, love and unrest I 

[8i] 



AT EASTER-TIDE 

SILENT among the lilies do I stand 
Until, enchanted by their beauties, I 
Lean forth and, with my thousand spirit-hands, 
Gather their wondrousness unto my soul ; 
And from that soul, grown wiser by the touch 
God left upon it, do I send to thee 
A million blessings ! Every thought of Christ 
That dwells within to make this earth a place 
Of white perfection, — every jewel, too, 
That glistens in the sunlight with the songs 
Of life and resurrection, — oh, my friend. 
My spirit sends thee all the blessed things 
That thou hast loved and longed for, and the joy 
Is mine to lift thee, on this Easter tide. 
To truth and glory high above the stars ! 
To leave thee singing : " Empty is the tomb 
And he is risen — risen for my sake ! " 
So shall we conquer darkness and distress 
And for our brothers rise and rise again I 

Silent among the lilies do I stand. 
And now, enchanted by their beauties, I 
Lean forth and with my thousand spirit-hands 
Bless thee and clasp thee to my waiting heart I 



[82] 



AT THE LIGHTHOUSE 

OH, dost thou know the sea, the sea, 
The blue, blue sea ? 
In its impenetrable deeps 
A woman sings and sighs and sleeps — 
Oh, knowest thou the sea? 
She is at once both wild and calm, 
And with a bold, brine-scented balm 
She casts her spell o'er thee. 

My love, 
She casts her spell o'er thee. 
Oh, dost thou know the sea, the sea, 
The blue, blue sea ? 

The sands are shining by the sea, 

The dark, dark sea. 
In vain I wait, with eager eyes. 
To greet the far horizon's prize, 

O silent, sailless sea 1 
In vain the lamps I trim and shine 
And save all other ships but thine. 
(She casts her spell o'er thee. 

My love. 
She casts her spell o'er thee.) 
Thou dost not know the sea, the sea. 

The dark, dark sea. 



Thou didst not know the sea, the sea. 

The black, black sea. 
In its impenetrable deeps 
A woman sings and sighs and sleeps - 

[83] 



Thou didst not know the sea. 
She loved and lured thee in a breath, 
Then whispered thee away to death 
And cast her spell o'er thee, 

My love, — 
Her fatal spell o'er thee ! . . . 
Alas ! thou didst not know the sea, 
The black, black sea ! 



[84] 



Y 



THREE PICTURES 

{Thoughts for Easter) 

OU who would live to make your living strong, 
Trust not to wandering winds nor smiling fates ; 
You who would keep apart from sin and wrong, 

Loving your God, must live between three dates : 
The Birth, the Death, the Resurrection Song ! 

THE MADONNA 

Behold the tender mother watching where 
Her infant son is smiling through his tears! 

Does something hint of darkness and despair, 
Of sad and sunless days, of crownless years 

To be before the world has heard his prayer ? 

THE CRUCIFIXION 

Who, gazing here, can summon words to say 
How cruel were the deeds of long ago ? 

Who, gazing here, feels not the wild dismay 
Of those beholding sin, who sadly know 

They too, not guiltless, turn their eyes away ? 

THE RESURRECTION 

The sky-directing fluttering of wings 

Suggests the theme for every human voice 

That, loving heaven, glad and grateful sings : 
Rejoice, my soul ! Rejoice ! Rejoice ! Rejoice ! 

Oh, rich the tidings this bright vision brings ! 



[85] 



I 



IF THOU HAST WON 
F thou hast won a smile from me, 



A smile that in the giving, 
The giving of its pleasure free, 

I made life worth the living, 
Go thou and thank the noble soul 

Of love, in whose safe keeping 
Are all the fairies that control 

My smiling and my weeping ! 



[86] 



THE WOMAN AND THE ARTIST 

FROM thee, O love, I hide these burning tears 
(I left thee lonely for an artist's call) : 
I who have slumbered through the dreary years 
To waken but a woman after all ! 

Great lights applauded and the waves ran wild, — 
I was their idol and they thought me rare ; 

For them I jested, wept and brightly smiled. 
But, O my soul, what bitterness was there ! 



Too late I Too late I Our lives have grown apart ; 

I am no longer worthy of thy name. . . . 
Could I have known, one moment at thy heart 

Were sweeter than a century of fame ! 



[87] 



THE WINTER'S GUEST 

THE spring is here among us. To and fro 
She walks in flowing garments through the 
snow : 
Only the favored night and I may know I 
Dear, blue-eyed guest of winter 1 , . . Oh, breathe 

low! 
Surprise her not whose mission is to go 
Where at the dawn, the hidden flowers blow ; 
Nor, with one thought, transform the silent show 
Of still perfection she hath taught to grow 
Forth from her prayer above the season's woe I 
Thou, skeptic moon, believe me, it is so — 
The spring is here among us. To and fro 
She walks, in flowing garments, through the snow 
Only the favored night and I may know 1 



[88] 



THE SILENT SINGER 

MELODIOUS singer, still and silent grown 
Beneath a gaze so quieting that I, 
Though all the winds and waves forget to sigh, 
May hear no breathing other than my own, 
Too wildly boist'rous drowning the sweet tone 
Of one they say is dead who cannot die. 

At last among the stars, thy home, thy rest, 
Thy people, thou shalt mingle and control. 
What need for men to weep, or church-bells toll ? 
Thou art not dead: thy song-illumined breast 
Is summoned higher by divine request, 

That heaven and thee may worship soul to soul ! 



[89] 



A 



RIVERSIDE 
{Near the Shore) 
S noiseless as a thought all unexpressed, 



Through dusky shadows, far away from light, 
By branches counselled and by weeds caressed, 

The mute canoe, upon the stream of night, 
Glides to its haven 'neath some quiet hill. 

Dream-hushed the drowsing paddle waits to greet 
The magic of the moment calm and still. 

No song of eve, no sound of dying feet 
Breaks through the wordless wonderment. No more 

Faint, alien voices bruise the tender air : 
Only the muffled waves upon the shore, 

And peace and rest and silence everywhere. 



[90] 



A FANTASY 

IT came to me on the moonlight, 
From the soul of a fleecy cloud, 
And whispered softly around me, 
And laid aside my shroud. 

And nobody saw it enter, 
And nobody saw it go, — 

Not even the trace of its footsteps 
Was seen o'er the dreaming snow. 

But it raised me, oh, so gently 
From my bed in the frozen sod, 

And bore me up to the heavens 
To make my peace with God. 



[91] 



SONG 



TTTH Y delay ? . . 



Why delay ? . . . 

Why delay, my dearest ? 
In your eyes, 
Such beauty lies, 

(Sweetest eyes and clearest), 
Asking me the live-long day : 
Dearest, dearest, why delay ? . . 
Why delay ? . . . 

Why delay ? , . . 

Why delay, 

Why delay, my dearest ? 

Just for this . . . 

Just for this . . . 

Just for this, my dearest. 
Eyes are blue 
And eyes are true 

(Sweetest eyes and clearest). 
Just that I may hear them say : 
" Dearest, dearest, why delay } 
Why delay ? , . . 

Why delay .? . . . 

Why delay, my dearest ? " 



[92] 



WHAT I LOVE 

I HAVE a love for the priceless thing, 
The thing that you cannot buy — 
That you cannot buy for the gems that fling 
A dazzling light into crown and ring, 
That glow and sparkle, and then take wing — 
But not to the fair bkie sky, 

My love, 
Not to the fair blue sky! 

I have a love for the soft night-wind, 

The wind that the angels love — 
That the angels love till they grow so kind 
That heaven dwells in the lover's mind, 
And the dark, dark world is a league behind, 
And the goal one step above, 

My love. 
The goal one step above ! 



[93] 



THE WOOING O' IT 

"QIRl" I said, " I cannot love you — 
O Cannot give to you my trust ; " 
But you stole my hand and whispered : 
" Heart of mine, you must ! you must ! " 

"Friend," I said, "I cannot kiss you — 
Never kissed I any man ! " 
But you kissed my warm Hps, saying : 
" Heart of mine, you can I you can 1 " 

" Dear," I said, "I'll never wed you : 
Feel my heart unmoved and still ; " 
But you drew me to you, saying : 

" Heart of mine, you will I you will ! " 

"But," I said, "I do not love you." 

Then you looked me through and through, 
Saying, as you pressed me closer : 
'* Heart of mine, you do I you do ! " 



[94] 



MY CANINE FRIEND 

MY canine friend, you need not speak with me - 
I note the sad word-struggle in your eye, 
The echo of a hidden century 

That stilled your voice, nor told the reason why 1 

You need not speak — I know what you would say 
And all the splendid lessons you would teach. 

Had not some god, the while you sleeping lay, 
Escaped with your grand treasury of speech ! 



[953 



I 

TROVATO 

I LOOK in the mirror, I gaze in the sea : 
How small the reflection they offer of me ! 
I search the clear river, I question the skies ! 
But my soul I find only within thy dear eyes. 



[96] 



II 

ENTREZ 

THY spirit sought my heart at eventide, 
Knocking and trembling with its hope to win. 
" Thou foolish one, why wait to knock ? " I cried : 
" Why tremble so ? Come in! Come in ! Come in ! " 



[97] 



GOETHE AND GOUNOD 

Faust 

GREAT Goethe laid aside his pen ; 
The wondrous poem was ended. 
An angel came to claim it, then, 
Proud-winged, she ascended. 

" Likest thou this ? " And at the feet 

Of holy judge she placed it. 
" Yea ; but the work is incomplete, 

Since Gounod hath not graced it I 

" Go, breathe to him, thou angel fair, 
The sacred mission given. 
Which needs not thee, nor wings, to bear 
Its harmonies to heaven!" 



[98] 



LOVE AND THE SOUTHERN BREEZE. 

HEARKEN thou to the southern breeze, 
Gently stirring 

Through unerring 
Nature's palace of swaying trees ! 

Soft, yet bracing, 

Interlacing 
Love and lilac and life and ease 1 

Ever soaring, 

E'er imploring 

Songs of heaven, 

Seven times seven, 
Just for someone across the seas ! 
The breath of roses, the hum of bees, 
The sprite that wanders o'er distant leas, — 
All join the revel, and Spring agrees 

In all the world. 

The loving world — 

Over the world 

Or under the world, — 
High in the air where it melts into mist. 
Or low in the vale where the shades insist 
On depths of dreaming, and mysteries 
Borne on a thousand kindly keys — 
In all the world (and the Spring agrees) 
There's naught like the southern breeze ! 
For thee I find in its fairest theme — 
Ay, thee, beloved 1 my light supreme ! 



[99] 



For thee I find and I follow, oh, 
So proud and blessed in the twilight's glow ! 
And I sit with thee 'neath the swaying trees, 
Dear love of the southern breeze ! 



Know' St thou of the breeze that is cold ? 

Over the chilly 

World so shrilly 
Crying truths that were long untold ! 

Stern and heartless, 

Through the artless 
Spirit brushing away the gold ! 

Ever sighing, 

E'er denying 

Things of beauty, 

Life and duty, 
Dear to someone my heart would hold ! 

The bare trees bending, the bitter blowing. 
The track in the snow and the wild songs flowing; 
The soulless moon in the winter sky 
Darken my path with their "where ? " and "why?" 

In all the world. 

The barren world — 

Over the world 

Or under the world — 
High in the air where it melts into mist, 
Or low in the vale where the shades insist 



[loo] 



On depths of dreaming that would unfold 
The coldest secret in wood and wold — 
Ay over the bridge where our hopes are sold 
There's naught like the breeze that is cold! 
For I find thee not in the frosty lane, — 
Oh, I clasp thee not to my heart again ! 
Thou dost not answer, though long I sing, 
Thou canst not answer until the spring. . . , 
So I sit and wait 'neath the lean, dark trees, 
Dear love of the southern breeze ! 



[lOl] 



: 15 ;&C5 



